


Without Motion

by 47_Protons



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Anxiety, Author Projecting Unresolved Trauma Onto Characters, Canon Autistic Character, and it messed me up for a hella long time, autistic author, mmm, not really - Freeform, pet death, there is no happy ending, this is literally just entirely wrapped around something that happened when i was a kid, ventish fic I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 05:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/47_Protons/pseuds/47_Protons
Summary: Stimming is what brought life into crystal blue eyes. It brought joy, but also bright flecks of silver within the young boy's eyes and soul. An expression of wild glee, eyes squinted shut with boisterous abandon.And then it was forcibly stopped. The life was crushed, joy drained away, glee was ruthlessly squashed in an iron grip, replaced instantly by terror and panic and the inability to justmove.





	Without Motion

It always made Shaun happy to play with his pet rabbit. He was soft- _so soft!_ Shaun loved the feel of his rabbit's fur between his fingers; the way the rabbit's ears would twitch and his nose would wobble when Shaun scratched the one special spot just above the joint of his rabbit's hind left leg.

He would let his eyes close whenever he pet his rabbit. It made him feel so, so happy. He could close his eyes and still envision every little detail of the pet he grasped in his arms. The way the right ear was slightly longer than the left; the small white patch at the base of the whiskers on the stubby snout. The bundle of white fluff the rabbit claimed as a tail. The softer, more downy feeling fluff under the brown fur. Shaun felt the vague tightness of the muscles in his face forming into a gleeful grin as he slowly rocked and pet his rabbit. Forwards. Backwards. From ears to tail, forwards, backwards.

Such was his routine. The rabbit made him happy. Petting the rabbit made Shaun feel like everything would be alright. That everything was okay. That nothing would go wrong. His rabbit and his rocking helped him keep himself calm as he heard his parents shouting at one another in the kitchen. He knew he'd been kicked out of another school- but he'd _really_ tried this time! The teachers were confusing, and the other students loved to tease him, and god, were the lights in the room far too harsh- but he'd _tried!_ Surely, that's what mattered?

As thoughts started to chase themselves round and round in his head, faster and faster he began to rock himself. He felt the familiar sense of an energy built up around his wrists, and a kind of itch on his face- but still determined to keep calm and desperately clutch his rabbit, Shaun ignored the feelings and continued trying to soothe himself and ignore the screaming from a room over. So focused on ignoring the sounds he was, he didn't hear the angry stomping of his father's footsteps until his rabbit was ripped from his hands. The cry of alarm that tore itself from his throat meant nothing- the alarmed whine that followed fell on enraged ears.

"And he's obsessed with this damn rabbit!" Two sounds happened nearly instantaneously after the announcement. Shaun's anguished scream came just a split second before the horrifying thump-crunch of the rabbit making contact with the wall, falling down and lying terrifyingly limp. With nothing else to distract his anxiety-riddled mind, Shaun allowed his hands to shake as he turned his wrists back and forth quickly, reaching up to pat his face in stress as the shaking didn't alleviate any of his internalized chaos. "Stop flailing your hands like some idiot! I raised you better than that!" Shaun's father roared, grabbing his son's wrists.

Shaun was shocked into silence and trembling in the second that it took for his father to grip his wrists hard enough he felt his metacarpals grind together, as his arms were crossed above his chest. The suddenly overwhelming anxiety of being trapped- unable to move, unable to _breathe,_ pinned against the couch by the all-too-heavy weight of his father, completely unable to pat around or shake his hands or arms or move at all, he was trapped, he was stuck, he was going to _die-_

Alarmed and intensely panicked, Shaun tried to kick his way free, trying to get his father off of him, trying to wiggle his hands out of the deathgrip they were trapped in. Overcome by anxiety, Shaun screamed, if he couldn't get the force off him by fighting, maybe the loudness would scare his father off- get the older Murphy off of him- away from him- get him to stop _hurting him-_

A detached part of Shaun's mind registered Steve rushing into the room and trying to pull Mr. Murphy from his oldest son, only for one of the large hands to release Shaun's wrists to shove his pleading younger son away. Frozen by fear, Shaun didn't move, keeping his hands crossed over his chest. He continued screaming- a shrieking wail, richly entwined with all of the fear, terror, and red-hot anxiety that filled Shaun's chest. He didn't realize when his dad let go- didn't move his hands. Shaun kept screaming, clutched his hands to his shoulders. His dad stood up and kicked the couch. Shaun's screaming cut off into choking whimpers, falling off the couch and curling himself into a corner against the wall and the arm of the couch. His arms refused to release themselves from their crossed position- his eyes refused to open. Soon his only movements were the violent shudders of his shoulders as sobs wracked his body, mourning the friend he'd had for years, his rabbit. His brother had returned to his side despite being pushed down. Shaun's mother stood in the shadows of the opposite end of the living room, watching her two sons spend a moment together. Mr. Murphy had stormed out of the room a few minutes earlier. He'd slammed the door into the master bedroom, and, after a few loud stomps and slams from the room, it'd been quiet.

Mrs. Murphy inched closer to her two sons, deliberately keeping her hair in her face over the bruise that developed there after her husband had pushed her into the wall in order to antagonize Shaun. She gently moved Steve aside to rest her hands ever-so-lightly on Shaun's shoulders. She hummed softly to him, feeling some of the tension work its way out of her eldest son's body as he slowly calmed from the emotional turmoil he'd been trapped in for the past hour or so. A few minutes passed, with Steve hugging his older brother and Mrs. Murphy humming to her eldest son. After a few more moments, Shaun's eyes opened, and he reached to his brother for support in standing back up. 

Mrs. Murphy moved back, allowing Shaun space to stand back up, exhaustion and grief visible on his features. She watched as Shaun and Steve slowly hobbled to their room. She turned off the poor lighting of the living room after she heard her boys' door close. With a sigh, she resigned herself to the guest bedroom she'd taken to sleeping in. Some day, she'd fix the mess her family had become. The cleaning of the mess would mostly be somehow managing to kick out her husband. She closed her eyes to sleep. Some day things would be different.

Some day, things would change.

**Author's Note:**

> hi it's 1:51 AM, I wrote this all in one sitting, the lightning is freaking me out, and I'm stressed over thinking about telling my parents I'm bi. Highkey found it hard to _really_ describe my stims but hey who cares.
> 
> (This story is also 100% why if I don't _really_ know and trust someone, I don't like them holding or touching my wrists. It really freaks me out. My wrists or my neck honestly.)


End file.
